Too Dangerous For A Woman
by SecretlyInInk
Summary: There were many who believed that Legolas would never fall in love, simply because far too many she-elves were constantly vying for his attention. But love has a way of finding you just when you stop looking...
1. What Happens Now?

_Too Dangerous For A Woman  
__A Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction  
__Written By SecretlyInInk_

Minas Tirith: TA 3019 June 4th

For the first time since the days of Isildur, a king took his queen on the steps of the white city of Minas Tirith. All who were present could see Lord Elrond standing before his daughter and her groom, blessing them. Not a sound beside his clear voice was heard, and none made to move in those moments. None, except for one very peculiar dwarf.

"Curse the elves and their tall legs, I can not see a thing!" Gimli whispered in the stillness. The son of Glóin lifted himself unto his toes, nearly toppling into the blonde elf who had the misfortune to stand beside him. Such an elf was considering his own wedding, which he doubted would ever come. Never could the Prince seem to find an elven woman who was fully in tune with him, who shared his open-mind and easy thoughts.

Legolas shook his head then. Must his friend be so careless of the quiet? To speak during the wedding vows is to have the entire congregation hear your words. With a glance he hushed him, before averting his gaze to his satin shirt which was a lend from Elrond's twins, as he had brought no wear for such celebrations. The elf was grateful to those around them that pretended not to notice the disturbance, though the Prince did catch Elrohir's own twins sharing a smile.

He'd seen them only a few occasions before, as their father's wishes had kept the two hidden away in the comforts of Rivendell and uninvolved in the business of the world. Little did he know of either, though now as always Amarthel stood proudly among his kin, his face stern only when not looking upon the other. At his shoulder was a shadow, or perhaps a feministic mirror of himself. Faerveren, Legolas had heard her being called by her people. Joyous Spirit, it meant, and this he could see in the bright eyes and youthful expressions.

The two were so alike, that it seemed at times one being in body and mind. Darkened hair, and clouded grey eyes made this third set of twins look much like those before them. Those that knew them would say the two were rarely parted, even when Amarthel was sent to lead a company near the mountains while Faerveren should remain in Rivendell to tend to a proper woman's role.

Legolas came upon them again in the evening, when much dancing and feasting was being done in the halls of Minas Tirith. The celebration was large and grand, not to his own tastes in any way. Escaping the stone walls, the Prince found himself in a small garden fit around a pond. Yet he was not alone there, the children of Elrohir already standing in the moonlight.

"Gen suilon, Legolas of The Green Wood, we have heard such tales of your part in this passing war." It was she who spoke when their gazes turned to meet the one who interrupted their peace. Yet with Faerveren's words, her grey eyes widened in what he though could be awe. How far had his stories spread, and to what extent were they stretched?

"Now, dear sister, do not besiege the elf with your wonder." Amarthel warned with a good-natured smile. "Rather, let us speak of this day. It is good that Aragorn has at last taken his throne, and his queen as well. But should you have not brought a box for your companion to stand upon?" He looked to the blonde, a flicker of amusement in the turn of his mouth.

As Legolas made to answer, he was cut off by the pleasant laughter of Faerveren. "Do you speak of the dwarf, dear brother? I find him positively charming in his ways." In this the twins disagreed, for there were few elves who would say dwarves were anything near to charming. A long history of distrust existed between the two races, which neither would surrender lightly. Amarthel pulled himself and his sister from the conversation, unwilling for the others to hear what he had to say.

"He may be charming to those who like such," Amarthel spoke in a hush, for to openly disagree with either his sister or Legolas would look bad on all of them. "But come now, Faerveren, let us join in the dancing while the night is young and full." Giving reverent nods to the elf, Faerveren and Amarthel departed into the hall once more, what they had been speaking of before Legolas' arrival long forgotten from their minds.

It was a few moons before the Prince saw them again, only this time there was no wonder in either of their darkened eyes. Only uncertainty and apprehension. The lords of many kingdoms were seated at Gondor's long table, discussing the fates of all people in Middle-Earth, and how to proceed now.

"We shall tell the Elves left in Middle Earth that there is no more reason to flee," Legolas announced when discussion turned to the Firstborn. "That they are free to stay or go as they please. Peace has returned to this side of the water once more."

"Free to stay?" Amarthel stood, looking at him from across the table. Faerveren was at his side as always, but stayed quiet as her brother protested. "The time of the Elf has long been over. There is nothing left for us here."

"There is life!" Legolas also stood. "Who are you to take that from them, Amarthel of Rivendell? The mere fact that your father has finally granted you some charge, after so many years? You are a fool to send the elves away if they do not wish to go." He was visibly upset now, nostrils flaring.

"Legolas," Aragorn spoke softly from his place at the head of the table, sitting between Lord Elrond and Faramir. "Hold your judgment. The dealings of the elf people will be left to their respected Lords and Ladies." Amarthel grunted softly in response, seeing his bid for some semblance of power slip away, but for a while he and Legolas were silent. Finally, the conversation turned to the Corsairs in the South. "We should offer them peace under our rule." The King decided.

"They will not accept domination," Legolas said solemnly, his gaze still upon Amarthel across the table. He remembered the harsh men in their black ships. To go into their land was folly.

"They will have no choice," Aragorn countered. "With the end of the war went also the majority of their ships, and their men. To Umbar we will send arbitrators, and two hundred men that will follow two days behind, should things go ill favored."

"And I believe that it shall," the blonde elf spoke again. "But if this is what you wish, then I shall be one of the arbitrators you call for. You know you can trust me on these matters." He dipped his head mockingly.

"And I as well." It was the first time Gimli had spoken, during the entire meeting. Perhaps this was because he did not want to draw attention to himself, chin barely reaching the top of the table. Gondor had never been designed for these small folk, and not one chair was high enough to give him a proper view. "Can't let this elf have all the fun," the dwarf noted with glee.

Aragorn snorted in response. "It is nigh impossible to separate the pair of you, in these days. I shall honor your request, friends."

"I would join them," volunteered Dorfaron of Gondor, whose name meant 'tough hunter' in the words of the elves. He was a tall, dark haired man, with all his loyalty put toward his new king. He also held charge of the only company of Gondorian cavalry, and had gained much respect of his people during the war. "And my men would come behind me." Indeed, this seemed the proper choice, and the King agreed.

"So now you have a force behind your words, Aragorn." Gimli commented. "Three advocates, and enough riders to get the point across if needed. The pirates may bow to you yet. Perhaps we'll poke them with our lances and make them dance as well."

"I wish to join them as well." came a voice that none expected. Through the entire council, even during her brother's argument, she had stayed silent. But now Faerveren stood, ignoring her twin's intense glare, for her own eyes were fixed on Elrond. "If you should let me." It seemed both Legolas and Amarthel were about to protest, when Dorfaron beat them to it with great fervor.

"This is too dangerous for a woman!" he interjected, looking kindly at Faerveren. "Even one with such courage as you, my lady. But you have not seen this band of dark, grim pirates. They have no respect for anyone, even themselves. And I would not see you getting hurt by their hands."

"Even so, I wish to do my part," she protested, confidently looking back at the imposing man. "If things develop as King Elessar expects they shall, then there will be no danger among them." Like all elves of her house, Faerveren was very stubborn, and did not intend to back down due to the warnings of a man. Perhaps it was that human streak, which she so often fought to hide.

"So it shall be." Elrond waved for her to sit, worry upon his face. "You have my blessing, if this is the path you wish to take. If it were my decision I would stop you, but I realize that I have kept you away from all of this for too long." Aragorn nodded in agreement, silencing any more protests that were surely to have come. Amarthel looked as if he had swallowed an orc, red spots appearing on his cheeks.

_Author's Note: I'd like to thank Jeron for all the help on this chapter, I couldn't have gotten it this far on my own._

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own ****Lord of the Rings**** or any canon characters. The only two I do own are Amarthel and Faerveren, the twins Tolkien forgot to mention =)**


	2. The Journey Begins

_Author's Note: So, here you have it: Part two, delivered at one in the morning while eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich._

**Disclaimer: Really, why would I own ****Lord of the Rings****? That's crazy talk.**

Minas Tirith: TA 3019 June 9th

Days later, it was time for the four to say goodbye to their friends in Gondor. While Legolas was giving a final farewell to Aragorn, he felt a presence at his shoulder. There was Amarthel, the young prince that he had not spoken to since their spat at the council.

"Look after her," The dark haired elf murmured, so low even Aragorn could not hear it, standing not three feet from him. "She is my sister, and I am trusting you to keep her safe." He looked up at Legolas, who could only nod. Then Amarthel was as gone as swift as he had came, like the faintest hint of a dream. In private, Legolas had no doubt that Amarthel would have already gone to Elrond and Aragorn, in attempt to convince them not to allow Faerveren to make this journey. But apparently, he had failed.

~oOo~

"Faerveren," Legolas called out from atop his horse, nearly an hour after speaking with Amarthel. Gimli was mounted behind him on Belegroch, a horse offered to them from the court of Rohan. "Come, we must leave." He looked down at the cloaked elf, who was conversing quietly with her brother. They had been doing so for more than ten minutes, Amarthel repeatedly giving warnings and advice, while Faerveren insisted that she would be 'quite fine'. But at his summoning, she gave one last hug to her twin, and turned away. Yet Amarthel caught her arm, pulling her back.

He had a ring on his finger, a simple, wide band of gold with elvish markings encircling it. This Amarthel removed, and he placed it on his sister's forefinger. Then he took a like ring from her, a thinner band, engraved with dainty leaves. This he slid on to his own pinkie. A trade. "Be safe, Faerveren, and return home soon."

She nodded, and quietly mounted a horse already laden down with parcels for the journey. And so the three horses set off, with a crowd of people at the gates to bid them good speed on their excursion. "I noticed you switched rings with Amarthel…" Legolas mentioned once the city was no more than a white tower on the horizon.

"Yes," Faerveren responded without taking her gaze off the road ahead of them. Her voice was tight, as if she might be considering now turning around and returning to her kin. And indeed she was. For many years the maiden had wished to be given leave of Imladris, and never had she before been left without the guards and overbearing hand of her brother. But now that she was set loose, Faerveren was frightened, and desired nothing more than the sound of a hundred Elvish horsemen behind her as she rode. "Those were our birthing gifts, from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." At this Legolas wished to ask more, but her tone made him hesitate. What could he ask, when he knew so little of her?

But he never got the chance, for now Gimli spoke up. "You know the fair Lady?" He asked, truly looking at the _elleth _now for the first time. To him, anyone who knew Galadriel well enough to be given her gifts was someone to be held in reverence.

"Dear Dwarf, you are forgetting that Faerveren's father is Elrohir, son of Elrond. She is of Lady Galadriel's line." Legolas chuckled softly, twisting around to see Gimli's expression of wonder. At this even Faerveren turned, a small smile lighting her lips. She could see in his eyes that the Dwarf had much respect for the Lady of the Wood.

"Well," Gimli chortled. "I can see that you're acquired her beauty, no doubt." His words caused a tint to form on the she-elf's cheeks, and she whispered some words of thanks.

"You should take to heart the words of a dwarf, for they do not offer such compliments idly," Legolas barely kept the smirk from his face. But it then changed to a small frown, seeing that Faerveren's own expression had grown hard.

"Beauty is useless," she informed him quickly. Then, with a small nudge to her horse, she rode forward to join ranks with Dorfaron, who had long wandered ahead of his company.

Gimli appeared exasperated at her leave. "Tell me Elf, what was that?" He looked at Legolas, who sat in front of him. Their horses were making good time on the Harad Road, from which they would later leave when it crossed the river Poros.

"Quiet, _El mellon._" The elf in question hushed him. "I believe there is a part of this maiden that we know not. Perhaps we should tread carefully." What they did not know, was that beauty had saved no one. Beauty didn't win wars. Beauty didn't keep the orcs from Rivendell's wood.

_Notes oh the Elvish:  
__Elleth: Female Elf  
__El Mellon: Elf Friend_


	3. She Makes A Horrible Lookout

_Author's Note: Part Three is here. I really like this chapter, but let me know if I'm the only one._

**Disclaimer: Do we really need these? I do not own Lord of the Rings, yah-dah, yah-dah, yah-dah.**

Harad Road: TA 3019 June 9th

At nightfall, the company stopped near the mountains to make camp. In a valley they started a small fire, and feasted upon dried meats. "Be alert," Dorfaron warned as he looked around. "There are still many orcs in these parts who would enjoy having our heads." Yet his fears seemed ungrounded, as they were not disturbed. After a while, the company fell into sleep, with Legolas offering himself for first watch and settling himself near the low fire.

After an hour of lying on cold stone and listening to Dorfaron snoring, Faerveren's bodily functions alerted her to another need. She stood quietly, not wanting to wake the other two. Without a word, she walked past Legolas, who was sitting near the low fire, and rounded the corner of a rocky out cliff. But just as she decided that was a proper place, Faerveren heard the crunch of gravel off to her left. Spinning, she pulled a small, white dagger from her boot. Peering into the darkness, she awaited another noise. There was something there, she could sense it. She should call out, warn the others. But then, Faerveren heard something heavy fling through the air, and it hit her forehead before she could duck. She fell, but not before letting out a very childish shriek.

When Faerveren awoke, the first thing she noticed was the warm, sticky substance trickling into her hairline. One sniff, and she confirmed it as blood. Whatever had been thrown at her had hit its mark. She opened her eyes, but even Elvish senses couldn't cut through the complete darkness of a cloudy, moonless night. "_Ir im? Man carnen?"_ She spoke aloud, knowing not what might be there to hear her.

"_Avo 'osto, im si._" A voice whispered, startlingly near to her ear. She jumped when someone came to put their arms around her, and lift her into a sitting position. But feeling the soft hands on her arms, and the breath on her cheek, she knew who it was.

"Legolas… _Man carnen_?" Faerveren pressed again. Were there orcs? Were the others alright? What had happened to their fire?

He pulled out a damp cloth, though she had no idea from where, and dabbed it at her forehead. "_Avo bresto_." It was quiet for a minute, as he finished cleaning up her wound. "The orcs caught you by surprise, I assume. One of them threw a rock at your head, but I heard your scream. Good thing, because the other two sleep like the dead. We were lucky they were ill-armed, and I got here before they came near to you. They are done away with now."

"You killed them all on your own?" She looked to where she assumed he must be now, standing and pulling her up as well. "I knew you were an excellent fighter, but I did not know you were so competent…" He had saved her life tonight, no doubt.

"There were not very many, and they were quite poorly equipped." His tone was a modest one, as if he wouldn't take too much credit for slewing a small band of orcs. And for Legolas, it hadn't taken much. A few, well aimed arrows, and they fell to a heap that would be left for the beasts.

"No matter how many there had been, it is that many more that I would not be able to kill. I am ashamed that my first sortie with the enemy began and ended with my face in the dirt." She tipped her head toward her boots as they walked the short distance back to the camp. "And I am grateful for your coming to my aid."

"I promised your brother I would look after you, Faerveren Elrohiriel. And that I will."

_Notes oh the Elvish:  
__Ir im? Man carnen?: Where am I? What happened?  
__Avo 'osto, im si: Don't be afraid, I'm here.  
__Avo bresto: It will be all right (Literally: Don't worry)  
__Elrohiriel: Daughter of Elrohir_


	4. Quick Is Death To The Deserving

_Author's Note: Thank you to all those that reviewed, it has really boosted my confidence. So without further ado, I will present Part Four. Hopefully, you're still interested in this story, and will keep reading my pathetic adventure._

**Disclaimer: Tolkien owns ****Lord of the Rings****. I am not Tolkien.**

Harad Road: TA 3019 May 10th

With the _Anor_ just barely creeping over the horizon, the four hid all signs of their camp and set off down the rode once more. They said nothing for a long while, each deep in memory of past sunrises. For Faerveren, this meant reminiscing on the days when she and Elladan had sat together in Imladris, watching Arien pull her vessel over the Misty Mountians.

This bliss was then inturupted by Dorfaron, who was as usual very lighthearted in the morning. "If we keep good speed, I suspect we will reach Poros by noontime." From the Poros River, it was nearly 120 leagues to Umbar, which was a 5 day ride on horseback good speed or not. Not one day into their journey, and Faerveren was already tiring of her saddle. And Sirdal, her horse, clearly was in agreement.

Faerveren looked down at said horse, who had been her companion for many days in Rivendell. How many days had they spent plodding through the wood together? How many nights had the elf laid within the stable, comforting her beloved when the weather was poor?

"Where does your mind wander to, when your eyes go unfocused?" Legolas asked in curiosity, bringing his horse near to hers. When Faerveren turned toward him, the blonde drew upon a smile. It amused him to find her so pensive, yet at other times so impulsive and reliant on her first thought.

"To my home," the she-elf held back the sigh in her words. She did not care to appear weak among these dwarves and men, yet it seemed to be a branding that came along with the femininity. "_Guren aníra __Imladris_, for there is no place more splendid."

There was a grunt, and both elves were reminded of the one saddled behind Legolas. "Curse those that can not talk in a language all can understand. Just like the elves…" Yet his beard hid a smile that showed the intrusion was of good nature.

"Gimli, would you ever think that her words may be something kept arcane?" The_ ellon _countered. "Some do not wish for all their thoughts to be left open for your scuntunity." There was a short laugh between the three, which Dorfaron looked upon in wonder.

"You have spent far to long in the company of the Dwarves, _Ernil_. There are no secrets among friends." She put on a happy expression, which was matched by all of the assembly.

Then, the Man spoke up. "While I do admire your warmth, I wish the elves would focus more on the road ahead and less on the badgering of the Short-one." At these words Gimli nearly let out a protest, but the end of Dorfaron's speech silenced him. "For there are orcs on the road ahead, as you have yet to notice."

At this, a small array of motions took place. Dorfaron drew his sword at the same time that Gimli brandished his ax. Both Faerveren and Legolas lifted their bows, though the former paled in comparison to the well known latter. All three horses lowered their speed by a hair, and the elf eyes were finally turned to a barrage of shadow servants ambling near the road in the far distance.

"Do away with as many as you can now, and when they run forward we shall dismount and finish those that are left." All this the Green Wood Prince said as he let fly two arrows into the heads of orcs. Faerveren did as she was told, knocking off arrows nearly as fast as he. But the orcs would not just stand without fight, and enemy arrows were sent in return, though were few and ill-aimed. At length the disadvantaged group came forward, and the Dwarf and Man took leave of their horses.

A small battle ensued, but by sword, ax, and arrows the servants of the shadow all fell or fled. "Shall we pile and burn the carcasses?" Gimli suggested as he wiped his thick brow.

Dorfaron shook his head in disagreement. "Let us leave them, so that all may know that Gondor is well protected by its people." No one dared to disagree, and the company set forth once more, leaving a mess of blood in their wake. It was a poor sight, but made its point well.

"_Agorech vae_," Legolas offered praise to a maiden who had a hard time leaving bodies strewn upon the road. "Those in Imladris have taught their archers well."

"While the royalty in Mirkwood was taught at twice that?" Faerveren asked him. She knew that very few could compare to the warrior in Legolas, but she did not begrudge the compliment. "When Amarthel was being punished for misbehavior and I left without my playmate, my father would take me into the woods to practice with the bow. He had handmade a miniature one himself, perfect for my young hands. Many years have passed since, and many bow strings broken in that time." Here was yet another insight to her childhood, of which the group knew little of.

"Bows have their uses, if well made." Gimli added to conversation again and again. "But nothing, nothing beats an ax."

_Notes oh the Elvish:  
__Anor: Sun  
__Guren aníra __Imladris: My heart longs for Rivendell  
__Ellon: Male Elf  
__Ernil: Prince  
__Agorech vae: Well Done_


	5. Desert, Desert, And More Desert

_Author's Note: Five Chapters! Yay! Only… a lot more to go.  
__So, I have to say that, if you pay close attention, twice here you might see hints of the was Legolas is beginning to feel for his companion. But hey, they're elves, they have their whole lives, so why not go really horribly slow?_

**Disclaimer: And so, Lord of the Rings was Disclaimed.**

Harad Road: TA 3019 June13th

Very little was known of the land of South Gondor, but the company can tell you it is exactly what was written on many maps. A 'debatable and desert land'. Dorfaron, Legolas, Gimli, and Faerveren passed through it relatively unnoticed, though their trip was hot and long. Little was there to prey upon, and they ate a good portion of the dried meats brought along. Though they had now strayed from the Harad road, the terrain was wide and open, with little besides the heat to hinder their journey.

At long last, the four and their horses came upon the Harnen River, and you may have thought one of them had just announced some great deed. Gimli even took up a cheer, for they were very close to Umbar now. Another day, and they hoped to see the city gates standing in the West. What would happen at their arrival, however, even Elrond could not yet foresee.

"Do you think it odd that we have come across no man, neither Corsair nor Haradrim?" Faerveren expressed her fear as they took rest beside the river bank. She removed her thick boots, and dipped dainty toes into the water, which was invitingly cool.

Dorfaron answered, all the while cooling his horse with a wet cloth. "In this heat, my lady, no man would venture out. I suspect they are barred within Umbar, drinking ale and mulling over their defeat. Surely, word must have reached them of out coming." His words were seconded by Legolas, who gave her a look that begged her not to worry.

"And when we do meet them, they will shake in their scarlet tunics." Gimli lifted the spirits of all. "For do not forget, Dorfaron's favored men are on our trail. If we are forced to battle, then I shall take claim to many of their dark heads." He let out a chuckle that spread like wildfire. Once it was controlled, they mounted their horses and set off once more.

~oOo~

"Behold, the Haven of Umbar." Dorfaron spoke to the others gravely. "I confess, it is not what I had expected."

They had been traveling the banks of the Haren for a full day, and now in the distance were white gates of the city. None of the four had expected it to be so large, and even from the distance they could tell that it would tower as high as Minas Morgul. Dark haired Corsairs traveled the battlements, watching them approach. At one hundred feet they sent a warning arrow, but the travels returned none.

"Will we be greeted in peace?" Faerveren asked her companions warily. To her, these sallow men put a fear into her hearts that she had not yet seen. They were burly, and appeared as ruthless in their kingdom as they must have on their large black ships. The remainder of these ships were docked on the West side of the Haven, which opened strait into the sea.

Legolas shook his head, seeing the large gates beginning to open, and a singular Corsair come from within. "My lady, never did we expect peace. But I say to you, do not let them take your weapons from you. We may need them."

Faerveren would have pointed out that they would have to strip her bare to relieve all the weapons she carried, but now Dorfaron rode forward toward the other man. "Hail," He called out in a strong, unwavering voice. "We come of Gondor, at wish to take council with your Lord." He met the Corsair strait in the eye, and this challenge went on for a moment. But Dorfaron had in his days seen far worse things than pirates.

Finally, the man spoke. "I lead you to the halls of our King, but I do not welcome you there." He returned to the gate, which opened at a tediously slow rate. The company took leave of their horses, Legolas whispering for them to stay out of sight. Now walking, the man, dwarf, and elves entered Umbar.

Each person they set eyes upon had a harsh look of unwelcome, even the slaves that filled the city. A group of men led them to the throne room, not even thinking to relieve them of their weapons first. The sight of the Corsair King was a horrible one. He was a swarthy, tall man even when sitting, with a look of deep hate in his eyes when he saw the four messengers from Gondor.

"We do not welcome you, races of Middle-earth." He growled, looking down at the group. "What reason do you have to come here, after the slaying of my men?"

"Heed us, great Lord." Dorfaron humbled himself into a bow, stepping away from his companions. "We bring council from King Elessar, and peace to your people. He offers to you strength, under the rule of Gondor."

"The rule of Gondor?" The King looked down upon him in anger. "Your king does not deserve his own throne, yet now he tries to usurp mine? We would not bow to any other."

His words put fire in the heart of Faerveren, and the elf stepped forward. "Aragorn is a great man, and he is offering you a chance for your people to be equals, while Sauron would give you only slavery!" She met the eyes of the King with a glare, no fear of him now.

"_Avo bedo, __Alageth_." Legolas begged, his voice only a small whisper of disdain.

"How high do you see yourself, girl?" The King rose from his throne. "I will see that your pretty face finds only slavery here, should you speak so rash."

"You will not touch her," the blonde stepped before Faerveren protectively. He regretted ever taking up Aragorn's will to come here, and now Legolas wished nothing more to run from the city. Surely, this king would never take heed of them.

"Go! I do not need your kind here. Umbar will never bow to the North!"

_Notes oh the Elvish:  
__Avo bedo, __Alageth: Hush, Rushing One_


End file.
